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Boom! Ressler jolted awake and blinked rapidly as he scanned the unfamiliar room. Before he could fully collect himself, a flash of light illuminated the room, followed quickly by another boom as a powerful torrent of water cascaded across the expansive skylight above his head. As his eyes slowly focused, a small voice wailed "Mommy!" from the adjacent room and suddenly he knew exactly where he was. He had no memory of falling asleep on Liz's couch, but one look at his shoe-less feet and the blanket covering him told him it hadn't happened entirely accidentally.
Ressler sat up slowly and eyed the skylight, which he was reasonably sure would withstand any wrath Mother Nature might care to throw at it. "Mommy!" Agnes cried out again. Ressler heard a door open and smiled faintly as Liz darted into Agnes's room and closed the door behind her. He leaned back on the couch and put his arms behind his head as another flash of lightning bathed the room.
Six Hours Earlier
Ressler's throat tightened as he listened to Liz. The raw emotion on her face was palpable and her voice cracked as she spoke about the wreckage of her life. And then suddenly, both her tone and her expression softened as he realized she was talking about him, the tiny island of calm keeping her from being swept out to sea. Ressler swallowed hard as he fought to retain some semblance of self-control.
"No, that's never gonna happen," he murmured reassuringly.
"It would if you weren't here," Liz insisted.
"But I am. And it won't. Come here," he replied as he stepped closer to her and wrapped his arms around her. Liz leaned into Ressler's embrace as he drew her close against him. He could feel the light pressure of her hands against his jacket as her head dropped down to rest on his shoulder. "It's never gonna happen," he repeated firmly. "Not on my watch." He tightened his arms around her as she cleaved closer against him.
It felt almost as if they were slow-dancing as they swayed slowly back and forth, each leaning on the other for support. Ressler closed his eyes and found himself suddenly overly conscious of how perfectly she fit against him, the scent of her hair, the soft fabric of her sweater. He shifted his face slightly until his nose and lips were lightly pressed against her hair. He'd held her before, but this was the first time that he'd done so when she was calm and not sobbing hysterically.
Eventually, Liz drew back and and rested her hands on his arms. "Thank you," she managed as her eyes met his. Ressler took his thumb and slowly brushed away a glimmer of a tear from the corner of her eye.
"Don't thank me, we're a team. I'm on your side. Always."
Liz nodded wordlessly as she lowered her eyes. "You want to stay for a drink?"
"Sure." Ressler eased out of his jacket and tossed it on a nearby chair as Liz stepped into the kitchen and fished a bottle of scotch and two glasses out of a cabinet. She poured a neat amount into each and then extended a glass to Ressler, who eyed the amber liquid.
"You been lifting Scotch from Reddington?" he asked as he sniffed his glass appreciatively.
"No!" Liz retorted. "But I might have picked up a tip or two along the way," she added with a wink.
Ressler chuckled softly. "So what are we toasting to?" he asked as his expression turned more serious.
Liz hesitated briefly before a slow smile spread across her face, "to the calm before the next storm," she said as she extended her glass to touch his.
"I'll drink to that," Ressler grinned.
Six Hours Later
Ressler sat up again as he heard a noise behind him. Liz and Agnes were tiptoeing into the kitchen. Liz caught his movement and shook her head. "I'm sorry to wake you, the storm scared her and she wanted a drink."
"No worries, you didn't wake me," Ressler replied. "The storm took care of that all by itself." He turned his attention to Agnes, who was clinging against her mother's waist. "How're you doing, sweetie?" he asked gently. "You scared of the storm?" As he finished, another flash of lightning lit up the room.
"What are you doing here in the middle of the night, Uncle Donnie?" Agnes asked as she dug in closer against her mother. Ressler flicked his eyes towards Liz. He was wondering that himself.
Just then, another boom of thunder echoed overhead and Agnes tightened her already vice-like grip on Liz's waist.
"Honey, you're making it really hard for me to pour you a drink when I can't even step over to get a glass," Liz replied with an exasperated sigh.
"C'mere, kiddo," Ressler said. "You can come sit with me while mom gets your water, ok?" Agnes looked up at Liz, who nodded. Eyeing the skylight warily, Agnes ran over to sit with Ressler on the couch while Liz, now unencumbered, poured three glasses of water for all of them.
"Ress - Uncle Donnie - is here because we were talking after you went to bed, and then you had a nightmare, and while I was in with you, he fell asleep on the couch," Liz explained as she joined them in the living room with the glasses. "And rather than waking him up to send him home, I figured he was tired and we should just let him sleep." Liz added as she sat in a chair across from them.
Ressler flashed Liz an embarrassed smile. "See, I don't even remember falling asleep," he admitted. "I guess all the travel got the best of me," he added apologetically.
Liz shook her head as she took a sip of her water. "Please don't worry about it. I didn't have the heart to wake you, you looked so peaceful, and it's honestly no trouble at all."
Ressler turned his attention back to Agnes, "You know, I was scared of thunderstorms when I was your age too."
"You were?" Agnes gaped at him. Much to his bemusement, Liz gaped at him too. "You were?" she echoed.
"I was," Ressler replied calmly. "But do you want to hear how I learned not to be scared?"
"How?" Agnes asked breathlessly.
"See, I shared a room with my older brother Robby," Ressler began with a glance towards Liz. "And Robby was quite a few years older than me, older enough that he wasn't scared of storms anymore. And what he taught me as that you count the seconds between when you see the lightning and when you hear the thunder. And when the time between the two starts to get longer, that's how you know the storm is moving farther away. So let's count the next one and we'll see if the storm is moving away, okay?"
Agnes nodded solemnly. They waited another minute or so before the room was once more bathed in light.
"Ok, here we go, count with me, one-Mississippi, two-Mississippi, three-Mississippi," Agnes's voice joined in with his until they got up to ten-Mississippi before the sky rumbled, and much less loudly than before. Agnes stared up at the skylight, mesmerized even as she burrowed closer against Ressler's side.
"Now we'll wait for the next one, okay?" Ressler said as he wrapped his arm around her.
"I still can't picture you as ever being afraid of anything," Liz said softly as they waited for the next burst of lightning.
Ressler shrugged. "Don't kid yourself. Everybody's afraid of something."
"What are you afraid of now, Uncle Donnie?" Agnes asked innocently. Before he could manage a reply, lightning once more bathed the room.
"Ok, let's count!" Agnes exclaimed eagerly. "One-Mississippi, Two-Mississippi, Three-Mississippi, Four-Mississippi, Five-Mississippi," this time they got to 15 before they were greeted by the even slightly fainter rumble of thunder. "It's moving away, Uncle Donnie!"
"Sure sounds like it," Ressler agreed as he pulled out his phone. "Now let me show you a picture so you can see where it's going." Ressler opened the weather app on his phone and patiently explained what the radar meant to Agnes as they watched the edges of the storm slip away from the D.C. area. Ressler also took care to point out to Agnes that there was no more storm activity headed their way.
"I think that means you can go back to sleep now," Liz said pointedly as she stood up and scooped Agnes off the couch. Agnes willingly wrapped her arms around Liz's neck.
"Thank you," Liz mouthed as she carried Agnes back to bed.
Ressler smiled as he stood up and carried their water glasses into the kitchen and washed them. Agnes's door was still closed as he returned to the living room and sat down on the couch. He was determined to stay awake this time, at least long enough to say his goodbyes to Liz and head home.
Six hours earlier
Liz followed Ressler into the living room and hesitated only briefly before joining him on the couch. She curled her legs underneath her and hugged a pillow in her lap as she sipped her scotch.
"Did Robby ask what happened?" she asked cautiously.
Ressler chuckled. "Of course he asked. I told him it was taken care of and I think he knew not to ask too much more."
Liz nodded over the rim of her glass.
"Thank you," Ressler said quietly.
"For what?"
"For saving him. I could've done my time and made it through, I think, but him - I'm not so sure. I was second-guessing every second pushing him into confessing. And that shot you made at the garden center. That was incredible."
"I've had years of practice watching the best," Liz replied softly.
"Well, whatever it was, I'm grateful for it.
"I'm just sorry I didn't get to meet the rest of your family," Liz continued. "Tell me more about your mom and Robby and most importantly, you. Just from the little you told me in Detroit, your childhood sounds more like mine than what I imagined."
Ressler snorted as took another long sip of his scotch. "The bloom is clearly off the rose," he remarked, "but you're probably not wrong."
Over the next hour or two, Ressler came clean with Liz about the truth about his past - his abuse of alcohol and drugs even before his father died, his rebellious streak in school, his fractious relationship with Robby and his parents, his mother's good hearted soul. Liz refilled their glasses a couple of times as they talked, the alcohol loosening the mood between them. By the third time Liz refilled their glasses, Ressler reached for her foot as she resumed her position on the couch and she didn't protest as he rubbed it slowly while continuing his story. After a while, she shifted position until both of her feet were in his lap. Whether it was the scotch, the foot rub, or the company, she felt an inner glow that made her feel alive in a way she hadn't felt in a long time.
Suddenly, her reverie was interrupted by a voice, "Mommy!" Agnes cried out.
Liz set her glass down on the coffee table. "I'm sorry, she must've had a nightmare," she apologized as she got up off the couch. "She's been having them more frequently lately. I won't be long, I hope," she added.
"Take as long as you need," Ressler replied as Liz headed into Agnes's room. "I'll be here."
Agnes took longer to settle than Liz had hoped. It was both a blessing and a curse to have a vivid imagination at her age. Finally, Liz settled her back to sleep and tiptoed cautiously back into the living room.
She couldn't help but smile at the sight of Ressler, still upright on the couch, but his head tilted back and his mouth open, sound asleep. Liz realized as she stepped closer to him what a long day he must've had with the late travel home from Detroit and then showing up at her door instead of going straight home. She hesitated only a second before she reached down and slipped his shoes off his feet. She fluffed two pillows and placed them at the end of the couch before she cupped his head gently between both her hands and lowered it to the pillows. Ressler stirred slightly as she reached down and lifted his feet until he was curled on his side on the couch but Liz stroked his arm gently and murmured "Shh, go back to sleep" and he complied.
Liz glanced around the room for the blanket she had discarded earlier before spotting it on a nearby chair. In a fluid motion, she draped it over Ressler, who didn't stir again.
Liz gently stroked his hair with her fingers before grazing his cheek lightly. "You beautiful kind man," she whispered. "Sleep well."
Liz stood for a moment watching him sleep before, hardly daring to breathe, she knelt down next to him and kissed each of his eyelids quickly. To her relief, his breathing barely changed. She adjusted his blanket slightly as she settled back on her heels to watch him some more.
She hadn't hesitated for a second when he'd called her from Detroit and told her in a clipped conversation that he needed her help, but he'd explain why only when she got there. She hadn't pressed him, she'd just dropped everything, made hasty arrangement for Agnes to stay with a friend, and hopped on the next plane, all the while running a hundred scenarios in her mind as to what might have prompted the call. Throughout all of it, she'd assumed it was a Robby problem, up until the moment Ressler had confessed his long-held secret to her. Only then, had she faced the prospect that she might lose him, the one person who had remained her rock through all the ups and downs of the past few years. Liz swallowed hard as she recalled the feeling of despair that had washed over her as she realized that if she did what he asked, he would probably be lost to her forever.
After she left the FBI field office, her choice became clear. She could let Ressler fall on his sword as he intended to do or she could take matters into her own hands. Both choices had consequences and neither were appealing. In the end, Liz had trusted her instincts and her instincts told her that the Detroit Field Office wasn't ready for the magic (or havoc?) that Elizabeth Keen could create. Luckily, she was right.
Liz gazed at Ressler, who seemed entirely at peace as he slept before her. "I love you, knucklehead, in case you haven't figured that out," Liz whispered as she leaned in and pressed her lips ever so faintly against his before hastily drawing back. "That's what I really wanted to tell you, I just chickened out." Ressler stirred slightly at her touch but quickly resumed the even breathing that signaled sleep. Slowly, Liz got to her feet and made her way into her own room.
Six Hours Later...
Liz emerged from Agnes's room and was relieved to see that Ressler was still there, and still awake.
"Your counting trick worked like a charm," she said. "Next best thing to counting sheep, I guess."
"Well, I can't give Robby all the credit," Ressler chuckled. "I think he got the trick from my mom or dad and just passed it on. I should probably get going, though" Ressler continued as he reached for his shoes beside the couch. "You need your sleep. I really appreciate you letting me crash tonight though."
Liz swallowed hard against the lump that rose unexpectedly in her throat. "I guess you're the island of calm for both of us," she managed as she stepped into the living room.
Ressler dropped his shoe as he looked up and met Liz's eyes.
"Liz, I —" he began before his voice trailed off as he saw her expression.
Liz bit her lip and closed her eyes as a wave of emotions cascaded over her. When she finally opened them, Ressler still hadn't moved from the position he was last in, but his eyes were warm, watching her.
"You know what I really want?" she began slowly, as her voice cracked.
"What? Tell me?"
Liz's lower lip began to tremble as she cast her eyes towards the skylight. "I'm always strong because I have to be, but right now — right now — It's what - 3 a.m.? And right now, I'm tired of trying to be strong. Right now, I just want to be held."
Ressler stood up quickly and wrapped his arms around her quickly for the second time that evening. "You shouldn't even need to ask," he murmured as he ran his hand across her hair. "I'm sorry I didn't —"
"Don't apologize," Liz whispered raggedly as she clung to him. "Just shut up and hold me."
"You got it."
Eventually, Liz leaned back and her eyes darted back and forth before they met his. "This is going to sound really strange but - would you stay? And just — hold me? Because maybe someday I'll be ready for more, but right now, that's what I need and I —"
"Whatever you want, Liz," Ressler replied evenly. "I'm not going anywhere unless you want me to."
Liz wordlessly led him by the hand into her bedroom and gestured towards the far side of the bed.
Ressler gave her a long look as he stretched out on top of the covers and extended his arm in invitation. "Come here," he said in a low voice.
Liz needed no further invitation as she folded herself against his shoulder.
"Goodnight, Keen" he said softly.
"Goodnight," Liz whispered as she curled herself against him. She could hear his heart pounding beneath his t-shirt as her fingernails slipped across his shirt and gradually came to rest on the other side of his chest. As they lay in silence, Liz's breathing gradually slowed into the even rhythm of sleep.
Ressler waited until he was sure she was asleep before he pressed his lips lightly against her head. "I love you too," he whispered into the darkness.